


Triple Tangle

by the_random_writer



Series: Triples [4]
Category: Bourne (Movies), Cut & Run - Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux, RED (Movies), The Bourne Supremacy (2004)
Genre: Camping, Central Intelligence Agency, Crack Crossover, Crossover, Doppelganger, Eavesdropping, Gen, Guns, Inappropriate Humor, Mistaken Identity, References to Monty Python, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Humor, Snark, Stupidity, Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 03:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11842827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_random_writer/pseuds/the_random_writer
Summary: It's the annual Sidewinder reunion weekend, and the boys are spending it out in the woods. Bad enough for Zane at the best of times, but to make matters worse, the Cooper-Orlov twins have joined them.A crossover fic that combines Cut & Run with mySeparated Twinsseries, featuring William Cooper from 'RED' and Kirill from 'The Bourne Supremacy'.Will only make sense if you have seen both movies, and know about a certain facecast for Ty Grady.





	Triple Tangle

As calmly and quietly as he could, Zane crawled into the two-man tent he was sharing with Ty, then sat down to pull off his boots.

Grunting slightly, he manoeuvred around in the tiny space until he found the edge of his bag, then carefully inserted himself into the Army-approved cocoon his husband had recently purchased for him. It was softer and thicker than he remembered from the previous night. Or maybe it was exactly the same, and he was simply getting used to the feeling of sleeping outdoors.

He rolled over onto his side, wincing as his middle-aged hip encountered a jutting bump in the ground. Why the hell had he agreed to come on this ridiculous hike? Why was he lying here in the cold and the dark, when he could have stayed at home with an espresso machine, a luxury, heated toilet seat and a Tempur-Pedic mattress instead?

 _Man up, Garrett_ , he told himself. _It's not the most comfortable trip you've ever been on, but it's not gonna kill you, either_.

On second thoughts, given the men he'd come here with, maybe he shouldn't make that assumption until he was safely back at the car.

This weekend was the annual Sidewinder reunion, but instead of spending it a paintball range in Mississippi as Digger had originally planned, they'd decided to go hiking and camping in the Tuscarora State Forest instead. Allegedly, because hiking and camping were easier and kinder on the body than being riddled with bullets made out of paint, but Zane wasn't entirely convinced. He'd once told the guys that his idea of slumming it was staying at a Holiday Inn instead of a Fairmont or Hilton Grand, and nothing he'd seen on this excursion so far had done anything to change his mind.

He shuffled forward, cuddling into Ty from behind, then pulled his right arm out of his bag and laid it over his husband's hip.

At least the company was good—on that front, he couldn't complain.

Scratch that. He actually could, but only in a minor way.

In a moment of kindness Zane was sure his husband had long since come to regret, Ty had extended the invitation to the Cooper-Orlov brothers. The twins had already met Kelly and Nick, and Ty had somehow convinced himself they would get along with Digger and Owen as well.

Fortunately, Ty's prediction had so far proved to be mostly right.

Digger and Owen had made the obligatory jokes about Ty being a long-lost sibling or a secret government clone, but this time round, Ty had laughed about it with them and taken the comments in his stride. Nick and Kelly had long since taken a liking to William, no doubt because he'd also served in the Corps, but were both still wary of the younger, slightly less rational twin.

Surprisingly, the Russian's unusual temperament didn't seem to be a problem for Johns. In fact, Zane would go so far as to say that Johns and Orlov were actually _getting along_. Owen was trying to teach himself Russian, and Kirill was extremely interested in the nature of Owen's job (for reasons Zane didn't want to consider), so the two former soldiers had found a lot to discuss.

Digger hadn't said much to either twin, but kept looking from Ty to William to Kirill and making some kind of sign of the cross.

Zane had occasionally felt the need to make a similar sign himself, but for entirely different reasons. Spending a sweat-inducing day surrounded by three different but equally attractive versions of Ty was more than any living, breathing man should ever be expected to bear.

Hmm.

 _Now_ he remembered what had persuaded him to come into the wood with the rest of the guys—Ty's earnest promises of some hot and heavy midnight fun. Promises Zane now fully intended to persuade his slumbering husband to keep.

Grinning, he gently slid his hand forward and down until it was resting on the ex-marine's groin. He noticed Ty was giving off a slightly different scent—one he'd never detected before—but they _had_ all been out in the wild for the last thirty-six hours without the benefit of hot water and soap. Smelling slightly strange was probably just par for the course.

He moved his mouth close to Ty's ear. "Hey, doll," he murmured, using his most seductive tone. "I'm up for some of that midnight action you promised if you are."

Knowing how much his other half loved being woken up with a pleasant 'massage', he grabbed a generous handful of balls. Or rather, what he assumed was a handful of balls, underneath the various layers.

Next to him, Ty suddenly tensed.

In a perfectly calm and disciplined voice, William Cooper quietly said, "Garrett, I like you and all, but if you don't let go of my dick, the only action you'll see tonight will be me pulling the trigger of my two-twenty-eight."

Zane's blood drained down to his feet.

Jesus fucking Christ. No wonder Ty hadn't smelled right, no wonder the sleeping bag was too soft. It wasn't Ty, and the bag wasn't his.

 _He was in the wrong fucking tent_.

He snatched his fingers away as if they'd been burned. "Jesus, Cooper, I'm so fucking sorry," he said, scrambling out of what could only be Kirill Orlov's bed. "I chose the wrong tent, I thought you were Ty."

"Obviously," the other man said, his voice absolutely dripping with scorn.

"Oh, man, I can't believe I just did that. I'm so fucking embarrassed."

"Stop talking, grab your boots and get the fuck out before Kirill gets back from the john," William said in an unpanicked tone. "Tomorrow morning, we both pretend this never happened. Got it?"

Zane nodded, not that William could see. "Works for me."

He shoved his feet back into his boots, leaving the yellow laces undone, then scuttled towards the front of the tent, reaching for the zipper pull. As fast as his fingers would move, he unfastened the waterproof 'door', ready to flee back into the night.

He heard the snick of a safety switch, then someone pointed a gun in his face.

Behind him, William quietly swore. "Too late," he warned with a sigh. "Kirill's back. You're buggered now."

Zane froze totally still, resisting the urge to raise his hands. His knives were strapped around his wrists, but even knives as good as his were no match for a Spetsnaz-trained man with a gun.

"Agent Zane, is that you?" Kirill Orlov asked, slightly louder than Zane would have liked.

"I got the wrong tent," Zane hastily explained, trying to head Kirill off at the pass. "I thought this one was mine and Ty's. I didn't realize it was yours until I was already inside. They all look the goddamn same in the dark."

William snorted and pushed up to a sitting position, obviously enjoying the show. "You could probably say the same thing about balls."

"It was an _accident_ ," Zane repeated through gritted teeth.

"I fucking hope so. I'd hate to think you spend your free time wandering around the Inner Harbour, fondling strangers' nuts in the dark." He shrugged slightly. "Although, in your defense, I _have_ been told I have a very impressive pair."

Kirill huffed and tightened his grip on the gun. "Agent Zane, did you just try to seduce my brother?"

"Course I didn't," Zane exclaimed. "I'm a _very_ happily married man, and my husband's in one of the other tents. Why the _hell_ would I want to seduce your brother?"

"William and Ty look very alike. Perhaps you have a kinky fantasy you were attempting to fill."

Perhaps he did, but the less said about it, the better. "Orlov, the only fantasy I'm having right now is the one where I rip off your head and take a steaming shit down the bleeding stump of your neck."

William snickered, Kirill tutted and shook his head.

"For the love of God, Kir, let the man go," the older brother advised. "The two of you keep talking much longer, you'll wake Grady up as well. He finds you pointing a gun at Zane, there's gonna be absolute hell to pay. _None_ of us'll get any sleep."

They froze at the sound of a zip being undone.

Fortunately, it wasn't Ty, but a very grumpy Owen Johns. "Whatever the fuck you bunch of assholes are doing over there, can you stop making so much goddamn noise?" he whispered loudly. "As strange as it sounds, some of us are trying to sleep."

"You tell 'em, bro," they heard Digger sourly add.

Owen finally noticed the gun. "Okay, do I even _want_ to know what the fuck you assholes are doing?"

"No, Owen, you do not," the Russian replied. "I can assure you there is nothing to see, so if I were you, I would turn around and go back to sleep."

Owen produced a mildly murderous glare, then gave a 'fuck it, whatever' shrug, and like a turtle retreating into its shell, pulled his head back into the tent.

Kirill leaned over to look in his tent, his brows creased in fraternal concern. "Did he hurt you? Or make you do anything strange?" he asked, using the gun to indicate Zane.

William scrunched his face. "Course he fucking didn't. He just got in the wrong goddamn tent. He wasn't trying to roofie me or choke me with a chloroform rag. So put the gun down and let the poor bastard go back to bed."

Kirill nodded and moved to the side, allowing Zane to crawl out of the tent. The Russian used his gun to gesture at the almost-identical structure across the way.

Zane didn't have to be told twice. He lurched to his feet, smoothed down the front of his shirt and strode towards his happy place.

As he walked, Kirill smoothly fell in behind, his hands still curled around his Sig.

Zane paused and turned to challenge his guard. "Are you _seriously_ marching me to my tent at gunpoint?" he groused. "Don't you think that's a little excessive?"

"My brother is a very happily married man, and his wife is a woman I greatly admire," Kirill solemnly explained. "When I signed on with the CIA, I promised her I would protect Viko from as many threats as I could, including slutty men and immoral women."

"Jesus, Orlov, are you for real?" Through the darkness, he heard a barrel sliding back. This time, he raised his hands. "Okay, okay, I take that back. Keep your goddamn panties on, or whatever the Russian equivalent is. I'm going to bed." Mother of God. What idiot at the CIA had allowed this drooling psychopath to settle in the United States? Why hadn't they sent the sadistic bastard back to Moscow where he belonged? Somewhere in Russia, an underground cave was missing its sociopathic troll...

As they approached the front of the tent, Kirill uncocked and lowered his gun. "Get into your tent and stay there for the rest of the night. The three of us will never speak of this terrible blunder again."

In yet another dreadful example of the universe's comedic timing, Ty stuck his head out between the flaps. "Never speak of what terrible blunder again?" he sleepily demanded to know. His expression darkened as he noticed the gun. "Lone Star, the fuck is going on?"

"Relax, doll. Nothing's going on. I was just coming to bed."

"If nothing's going on, and you're just coming to bed, why is Crazy Ivan holding his gun?"

"Because your filthy, man-slut of a husband just attempted to molest my happily married, older brother," the Russian complained.

Zane made a betrayed sound. So much for going to bed and never speaking of his 'blunder' again.

"For the last time, Orlov, I am _not_ interested in your brother." He turned back to Ty. "I was tired, and I couldn't see properly in the dark, so I wandered into the wrong tent."

Ty nodded, seeing where his husband was going. "And you got a little bit frisky with Cooper, thinking he was actually me."

"Yes. It was an accident, I apologized, he wasn't offended, absolutely _nothing_ happened. Can I come to bed now? Please?"

"Depends. How frisky are we talking here?"

"I might have accidentally grabbed a handful of balls."

"It could have been a handful of cock instead," Kirill helpfully put in.

Ty shot the Russian a glare. "If he was grabbing your brother, a handful would've been all he could get. And a real small handful at that. All the people in your family probably have minuscule dicks. _Including_ the girls."

"Say that again, Grady, and I will gut you like a pig in your sleep."

Zane looked from one man to the other. "Are you two _seriously_ standing out in the middle of nowhere having an argument about the size of your dicks?" he asked in an incredulous tone. "Because I'm pretty sure I can play that game way better than either of you."

Ty at least had the decency to look chastised.

"I am standing," Kirill observed. "But Tyler is on his knees. Which I think is a very fitting position for him. He should learn some humility, plus it means he is ready for you to get slightly frisky with him instead."

Zane let out a menacing growl. He felt his hand clench into a fist, but before he could let it fly, they heard a noise that made them all stop totally dead in their tracks.

In the tent furthest away from the fire, somebody let out a moan. "Jesus, Irish, whatever you're doing, please don't stop," they heard Kelly Abbott quietly say.

Kirill flapped his arms in disgust. "Could somebody please tell me where the no fucking campsite is?" he loudly enquired. "If I am not getting laid, none of you assholes should be, either."

A shuffling sound, then Owen abruptly re-appeared. "Just so you know, I don't care who's getting laid, as long as they keep the noise to a bearable level," he griped. "Digger and I are still trying to sleep!"

Zane took charge of the rapidly crumbling situation. "Okay, _you_ ," he started, stabbing a finger in Kirill's face. "Shut up, turn round and go back to your goddamn tent. And put your goddamn gun away, before you have an accident with it. Unless you're planning to shoot your brother in his supposedly very manly balls, in which case, go right ahead. If it means your family's fucked-up, annoying, shit-stirring genes won't have another chance to spread, you'll be doing the universe a favour."

Kirill gave him dagger eyes and clenched his hand around his gun, but eventually nodded curtly and did exactly as he was told.

"You," Zane said, turning the finger of doom on Johns. "You and Digger can shut the fuck up as well. I'm nine years older than both of you, and you don't hear me bitching and whining like a crabby, arthritic, old lady. Get back in that fucking tent and put your goddamn hair curlers in."

Owen raised an astonished brow, then just like the Russian before him, wisely withdrew from the scene.

Zane marched over to the green and white tent. "Kelly!" he angrily shouted out.

Inside, someone sighed and groaned. "What?" the corpsman snippily asked.

"I don't care what the two of you are doing, but do it quietly. I hear any more of your pillow talk, I'm gonna pull your ropes and pegs right out of the ground and tear your fucking tent away. Either with or without the two of you in it. You got it?"

He heard Nick snicker. "We got it, man. I promise, whatever we do, you won't hear a sound."

His mission accomplished, Zane made for the safety of his own bed. "Get the fuck in," he ordered Ty. He all but threw himself through the flaps and yanked the zipper down so hard he almost ripped it away from the teeth.

"You okay there, babe?" Ty asked, shuffling backwards to kneel on his bag.

"No, doll, I am _not_ okay. I am very, _very_ angry."

Ty grinned and put on his best Hulk voice. "Don't make him angry," he growled. "You won't like him when he's angry."

Zane simply glared.

Ty raised apologetic hands. "Sorry, babe. That didn't help."

"When we talked about coming on this trip, I seem to remember you promising me a night of hot and heavy fun."

"Yeah?"

"This is our second night out, and the only thing that's been hot and heavy so far is Digger's goddamn cast iron pan."

"Just wait until he makes breakfast tomorrow. You won't regret having to carry it then."

"Tyler?"

"What?"

"You're talking again."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"It is when I'm angry and horny, and I can think of a _much_ better use for your mouth. So why don't we stop with the talky-talky and move to the sucky-fucky instead?"

********************

The following morning, they gathered around the fire again, but this time, nobody had a great deal to say, and not just because they were all too busy eating their breakfasts to chat. Everyone was short on sleep, but some for far more amusing reasons than others.

Kelly looked around the group. "Okay, so who here _didn't_ get lucky last night?"

Nick snickered into his tea, Ty huffed and muttered something rude about puns being his husband's job.

One by one, the four men on the ace and hetero side of the fire gradually raised their hands. Digger first, loud and proud, then William and Kirill together (of course), and last but not least, an excessively grumpy Owen Johns.

"Don't go paying any attention to him," Digger warned, gesturing at his glowering friend.

"He's just pissed cus while you guys were all doing the beast with two backs, he tried sexting his lady friend."

"Oh, yeah? And what did the delectable Riley have to say?" Zane asked.

"She reminded him what time it was, then told him to warm up his hand and go back to bed."

Everyone winced or laughed.

"Wouldn't have been anywhere _near_ as bad if you inconsiderate assholes could learn how to fuck without making a crapload of noise," Owen grumbled into his mug. "I swear, at one point, it was like I'd wandered into an outdoor bordello."

"Not our fault Pamela's such a quiet girl," Nick drily observed.

"Funny."

William shrugged as he chewed on a spoonful of Digger's Cajun-spiced eggs. "I heard some of the racket, too, but it actually didn't bother me much. Kinda reminded me of my last MSG posting, at the US Consulate in New Zealand."

Owen drew his brows together. "The _fuck_ did you do in New Zealand that felt like living in an outdoor bordello?"

"Couldn't find an affordable place in Auckland I liked, and I didn't want to live in any of the Consulate's buildings, so I rented a room in a crappy, old house with three other marines instead." The sensible husband and father grinned. "Any night when we were all off-duty at the same time, it was like something out of that _Caligula_ movie."

Zane flashed a grin of his own. "The Roman Empire wasn't the only thing rising and falling."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Coop, but I have a real hard time imagining that," Nick revealed. "You seem like such a strait-laced guy."

Another shrug. "Wasn't always married with kids. I've had my fair share of degenerate bachelor moments."

That was another thing they all had in common.

"You keep in touch with any of the guys you served with?" Kelly asked William, leaning out to scoop some bacon out of the pan.

"A few, yeah. But you move around a lot when you're MSG, and you don't always move on at the same time or to the same place, so you're working with new people all the time."

The next question came from Ty. "Which posting did you enjoy the most?"

"Loved most of 'em, for different reasons. Austria had the nicest food, but Israel had the nicest weather. Japan was the safest. Peru had the friendliest people." He grinned again. "New Zealand had the friendliest women."

"You ever go anywhere bad?" Digger asked.

William nodded. "Twelve months in Yemen, then across the Red Sea for twelve months in Eritrea. Not as dangerous as Afghanistan or Iraq, but not the safest destinations, either. Especially when you're there with the Corps."

"You've really moved around," Kelly noted. "Probably been stationed in more places than we have."

"Comes with the territory when you're MSG. It's why I waited until I was done before I thought about marriage and kids. Although, they don't allow you to take some postings when you have dependents, so I guess that was a moot point."

"Speaking of people getting around, what's all this I hear about you and Garrett getting it on?" Nick innocently enquired.

Zane glared at his other half.

Ty held up a deflecting hand. "Don't look at me, hoss. My lips were sealed. Didn't say a goddamn thing."

"Leak didn't come from me, either," William offered before he was grilled. "I work for the CIA, so I know how to keep my mouth shut."

All eyes turned to the younger twin—the other main witness to the event.

"I told Nikolai what happened," Kirill calmly said, as if he had only shared a weather forecast or the latest football results. "I thought he should know, in case you attempt to molest Kelly as well."

"I thought you said you would never speak of what happened again."

Kirill shrugged. "I lied."

Zane's hands made fists again. "You're such an _asshole_."

"Just wait until I get back to work. I am going to post a description of what you did on the internal bulletin board, tell everyone at the CIA that you tried to seduce a Section Chief."

"Like _hell_ you are," William chipped in. "I'm warning you, Kir, you even _think_ about sharing this story with anyone outside of this group, I'll tell Broniewski and McNamara what you did in Scotland last year."

Kelly perked up. "What _did_ he do in Scotland last year?"

William's expression soured. "We don't talk about what happened in Scotland."

"I'm with you on that," Nick grumbled around a mouthful of beans.

Kirill's face fell into a pout. "Can I at least tell everyone at Langley that Zane is a very slutty man?"

That was an (untrue) insult too far for Zane. "I'm sorry, but when we were sharing stories around the campfire last night, _how_ many women did you say you had fucked?"

"More than a thousand, but what is your point? I was young and single back then. You are quite old, and as you keep reminding us, a very happily married man. You should be long past indulging in such energetic behaviour."

"Ivan, you seriously have _no_ idea how energetic I can be," Zane warned in a too-calm voice. " _Especially_ with my trigger finger."

"I believe you, Agent Zane. I am _quite_ sure you are a very vigorous man for your age."

"You know what the hell _I_ can't believe?" Ty asked, springing to his forty-eight-year-old husband's defense. "What is that, Tyler?"

"That you managed to persuade some gullible woman to let you put not one but _two_ different buns in her oven. If she lets you fuck her while she's awake, she's either a lunatic or a goddamn saint."

"Bit of both, actually," William revealed. "But slightly more of the first than the second."

Kirill flashed a conceited grin. "It is probably because I am so good in bed."

Everyone groaned or rolled their eyes.

"So modest as well," Kelly chimed in. "Do you get that from the Russian or the American genes?"

"The modesty comes from the Cooper side, the sexual proclivities are more of an Orlov thing."

"Which is why I'm happier being a Cooper," the older twin said.

Kirill tutted and shook his head. "Don't be so sure of your choice. From what I have heard, you are just as much of an Orlov as me."

William rounded on his brother. "From what you've heard?" he repeated. "The fuck does _that_ even mean?"

"Your wife and my wife are sisters, yes?"

"Yeah, and?"

"And they are very close, so they talk to each other all the time. And not just about what wine they like or where they bought their new pair of shoes."

Sighing heavily, William completed the train of thought for him. "They talk about sex. And Catherine shares what they discuss with you."

"Of course."

"So glad I have a brother instead," Ty muttered.

That didn't really wash with Zane. "Yeah, because you _never_ tell Deacon anything remotely private."

"I sure as shit don't describe the ins and outs of my sex life to him."

"No, you just accept phone calls from him while you're actually _having sex_."

"Hey! That was one time!" Ty protested. "And in my defense, I thought it was an emergency."

William addressed his brother again. "You ever phone me while you're fucking your wife, I'll frame you for treason and have you sent to Guantanamo Bay, okay?"

Kirill's response was a nod and a jaunty salute.

"No offense, man, but don't you think you and your wife are over-sharing?" Nick said.

Kirill grinned. "That is not over-sharing, Nikolai. Over-sharing is what I did last night, when I told you about the biscuit game."

Another round of winces and groans. Nick stood up and pretended to dust himself down.

Ty looked at his half-eaten eggs, wrinkled his nose and put his plate to the side. "Welp. There goes _my_ appetite for the rest of the day."

"I thought some of the shit we did in Jacksonville was weird, but that game really takes…" Kelly trailed off as he realized what he'd been going to say. He sighed and rubbed his face. "Is it too early for beer? Because I feel like I need a fucking drink."

Owen steered them to safer ground. "So you're about to have your second kid?" he asked his new Russian friend.

Kirill nodded. "The baby is due in the middle of June."

"Only a few weeks to go now, then. Starting to feel nervous yet?"

"A little bit, yes."

"You'll be fine," William said. "The first baby's the biggest shock, makes you want to fake your own death and run screaming into the hills. Second one's much less of a strain."

Just remember to summon the coven to witness the birth," was Ty's slightly malicious advice. "And whatever you do, _don't_ have it at six o'clock on the sixth of June."

Zane nodded. "Hmm, yeah, that's a good point. If it's a boy, Damien would be a _wonderful_ name."

The Texan's suggestion wasn't to the liking of the father-to-be. "Why would I ever give my child such a terrible name?" Kirill objected.

Everyone else sighed again.

"Never mind," Zane said, waving the question away. It wasn't funny if he had to explain it.

Kirill moved on, sensibly taking Zane's advice. "We have already picked out a good Russian name. He will be Mikhail Kirillovich Orlov. Michael to his American relations. Misha or Mishka for short."

"MKO," Owen murmured. "Isn't that an Iranian political group?"

"What if you have a girl instead?" Digger asked. "You thought about that?"

"Our first child was a girl. This one will be a boy. I can feel it in my bones," Kirill confidently declared.

Nick waved his fork at Kirill. "Might want to have a backup plan for that, comrade, just in case. My parents had the same idea."

"How did that work out?"

"One boy then four girls."

" _Four_ girls?"

"Yup."

" _Bozhe moi_ ," Kirill muttered, looking alarmed. "That is an awful lot of women."

"Any of you guys ever thought about having kids?" William asked.

Ty, Zane, Nick, Digger and Kelly simultaneously looked at Johns.

"Why the fuck are you all staring at me?" Owen protested.

"Because you're the only Sidewinder guy who's in any position to be making babies," Kelly tactfully pointed out. "Digger would rather play _Call of Duty_ , and in case you hadn't noticed, none of the rest of us have convenient access to a womb."

"We can't have babies, not having a womb, which is nobody's fault, not even the Romans, but we can have the _right_ to have babies," Zane announced in a bad English accent, pretending to bang an indignant fist on the ground.

Nick snickered. "Do we have to call you Loretta now instead of Zane?"

Kelly groaned and rolled his eyes, Ty flicked a half-eaten spoonful of eggs at his spouse.

Kirill frowned. "I don't understand. We are talking about having babies. Why would the _Romans_ be involved?"

"Yeah, because what have the Romans ever done for us?" William wanted to know.

Zane asked, "You mean apart from the aqueduct and the roads?"

Orlov looked from one man to the other. "Now I am extremely confused."

Ty put Kirill out of his misery, although not in the way he would have preferred. "It's a stupid joke from some British movie Irish and Lone Star both love. And apparently, your brother as well."

"I still don't understand the comment. Why would you want to have a womb? That would mean having to ride the cotton pony as well. It is bad enough dealing with the fallout from that every month as a husband. Why would you _ever_ want to go through something so dreadful yourself?"

William shot his twin a cautioning glare. "You'll have to forgive my brother, guys. He only just figured out how to walk upright last week. Might be a while before he stops dragging his knuckles along the ground."

Orlov used the knuckles in question to give his sibling the middle finger.

"Baby's _definitely_ gonna be a girl," Nick muttered to Ty. "Payback on a cosmic scale."

"Maybe history'll repeat itself and he'll end up having twins."

"Please don't say that out loud," Zane warned his spouse. "It's bad enough that he's breeding at all. Don't go giving the universe any ideas."

"So, none of you have kids of your own, but some of you have nephews and nieces, right?" William asked.

Kelly answered the question first. "I was an only kid, so I don't, but Ty and Zane both have a niece each, and Nick has a small gaggle of both."

Nick gave a nonchalant shrug. "What can I say? We're good, sturdy, farmer stock. We breed really well."

"Amen, brother," Digger added.

Owen turned the question around. "What about you?" he said to William. "You think you and your wife'll ever have any more?"

William shook his head. "Not now the two we have are both a reasonably rational age. No way in hell either of us wants to start with diapers and bottles all over again."

As the chatter around him continued, Zane set his empty plate on the ground, then lay on the grass and looked up, marvelling at the shade of the sky. There wasn't a single cloud in sight. "Looks like it's going to be a beautiful day," he said, mostly to himself. "Should have some really nice weather for our hike back down to the road." His eyes found a bird of prey circling lazily overhead. He squinted, trying to distinguish the breed. "Is that a Golden Eagle?" he asked. "The information sign down at the Visitor Centre said this forest is on a major migration route."

Kelly looked up and shook his head. "Nah, not big enough to be an eagle. Looks like a hawk of some kind to me. A red-tail, or maybe a Harris."

"Beautiful," Zane murmured, coming slightly closer to understanding his husband's fondness for the outdoors. He wouldn't want to go hiking and camping every month, but if it brought the two of them closer together, he could maybe stomach it once a year.

As he watched, the bird let out a rasping scream, slowed slightly and dipped its tail. Two seconds later, a giant, steaming, grey-yellow shit splattered across his ankles and toes.

On second thoughts, fuck this whole 'communing with nature' thing. From now on, he would limit himself to sitting out in the row house garden, or at the very worst, going for a stroll in the neighbourhood park. He stood up to wipe his boots on the grass, wrinkling his nose at the odious smell. It was even worse than one of Ty's infamous, onion ring farts…

"Don't take this the wrong way, guys, but if I _ever_ agree to do this again, I am _not_ sleeping anywhere that doesn't have hot and cold running cable TV and instant blow jobs on demand," he announced.

Kirill gave an approving nod. "I would also stay at this place. As long as the blow job providers were women. With all due respect, I am not sure I want one from a man."

"We might be better off staying at home," Ty said. "We already have hot and cold running cable and Wi-Fi there."

"What about the instant blow jobs on demand?" Zane said.

"Those as well, but only if you ask very nicely."

"When do I ever _not_ ask for a blow job very nicely?"

"Uh, how about last night?"

"That was different! I was really angry, then. Some _asshole_ had just marched me back to my tent at the end of a gun."

"You should be glad I only marched you back to your tent," the asshole in question advised. "I could have marched you out into the forest with a blindfold and handcuffs on instead."

"Nuh uh," Ty said, raising a warning finger. "Anyone takes my other half out on a midnight, mystery tour of the forest, it's me, okay?" He looked Kirill straight in the eye. "I'm warning you, Ivan. Leave my husband the fuck alone. Don't even _think_ about laying a finger on him."

"Whatever you say, Tyler. Agent Zane is all yours. Except, of course, when he is trying to sleep with my twin brother instead."

Zane made a frustrated sound. "You're _never_ gonna let me forget this, are you?"

"Of course not. Holding grudges is one of my primary skills. Especially when they relate to mistakes as amusing as yours."

"He still hasn't forgiven me for smashing up the Space Lego set we got for Christmas when we were nine," William revealed. "You'll be listening to him bitch about this for the rest of your life."

"Or the rest of _my_ life," Kirill added. "As gifted and talented as I am, even I cannot hold onto a grudge when I die."

Zane looked at Ty, eyebrows raised. His mouth curling up at the corners, Ty looked right back at Zane.

The message they were sharing was clear.

With all of the contacts and skills the two of them had, surely that could be arranged?


End file.
